


The Ocean's Mysteries

by WhiskerFrisker



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Dirk Strider Being An Asshole, Dirk being an asshole, Diving, Hoarder, Lil Hal being an asshole, Lil Hal being snarky, Mystery is Afoot!, Other, Post-Sburb/Sgrub, Something went wrong, Striders Being Assholes, everyone is separated, snarky ai
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-31
Updated: 2017-06-28
Packaged: 2018-05-10 15:14:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 19,578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5591107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhiskerFrisker/pseuds/WhiskerFrisker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What does the ocean hold? Being a veteran diver, I have a better understanding of the type of answers that question can elicit. But if you asked me that question before my most recent diving expedition, there's no way I would have said anything about finding artificial intelligence harbored in a pair of shades. It's possible, though, and that's exactly where my story starts. Fair warning, it's one hell of a ride.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Glasses Are Found

**Author's Note:**

> This... This story... This story is the one. This story is the one I've REALLY been waiting to post. This is the one. This is the story that I really love. I love this story a lot, and I hope you will too.
> 
> As an added note, I will color-code the chat. But for now, the pesterlog colors go as so: Hal is cherry red, and anyone using the glasses to directly respond to him have words colored in Dirk's font.  
> SPOILER: It's offline, so it's not like Dirk would know. OH, whoops, spoilers. HAHAHAHAHAHAH im so sorry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things happen and our main protagonist finds an unlikely friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> UPDATE: I figured out how to color the chat. Yaaay! And it only took me some amount of time that I'm not aware of! Now it's not frustratingly confusing to read. (This helped: http://robotsquid.tumblr.com/post/42865387057/how-to-do-homestuck-pesterlog-formatting-on-ao3 )

Upon my most recent diving expedition, I found something interesting… something very interesting. When I had first seen the occasional reflection of light along the ocean floor, I couldn’t really see who or what the culprit was, so I grabbed the thing and swam up into lighter waters. Upon pulling my hand back into my line of sight, I found myself gazing upon a pair of triangular sunglasses within my grasp. I figured it had accidentally been dropped into the ocean rather recently, considering the item’s surface seemed pristine and clean even when I inspected it beneath the water. I’d turned the item over in my hands a few times with scrutinizing eyes before doing so subconsciously as I’d wondered if it was worth bringing with me to the surface. I already had enough random junk scavenged from the ocean floor and, despite repeatedly telling myself I’d sell everything that was in good enough condition to do so, the junk continued to sit abandoned on the floor of my tiny apartment.

The internal debate had lasted up until a flicker of light from the glasses had caught my eye. Despite passing it off as a momentary reflection from the sun’s warm awaiting rays, I glanced down absentmindedly. Just as my gaze lifted from the sunglasses, I promptly froze all conscious actions as my mind flipped over and sizzled with overload heating. That wasn’t a reflection… The phrase kept running through my head like a mantra as I attempted to understand why, what, and how even. Eventually, I got over my strange trepidation enough to where my eyes would trail back down to the glasses gripped tightly in my hands.

…What…? A screen of some sort stared back at me on the inner side of both framed sheets of tinted glass. Two white boxes with what seemed to be cherry red text scrawled across it made up the screen, and- …did another line of text just get placed down…? Deciding the glasses looked innocent enough and I wouldn’t end up dead from my cat-like curiosity, I held them up to my face as close as I could with my scuba mask in the way.

I nearly dropped them when I read the most recent line of text.

TT: It would be in both of our best interest if you would refrain from clutching me so tightly.

I read the text a few times, stared blankly at it in thought, read it again, and an inability to understand that a pair of glasses just asked me to be more gentle with it still refused to become a conclusion, nor could it possibly be any sort of truth. If it were another person, then how would they have known I’d been subconsciously gripping them so tightly? I somewhat doubted there were sensors within the glasses. The thought of holding an invisible person also crossed my mind, but it was quickly swept underneath the rug as both insanely and ridiculously absurd.

My mind had become so cluttered with confusion that my inner words were forced out into the open. “…What.” It wasn’t a question; in all honesty, I wasn’t sure what it was. My words had come out garbled by the surrounding water and thus were virtually incomprehensible to my own ears, and yet, as I steered focus back onto the pair of glasses, and within the first five words I gasped in shock, regretfully allowing some water to slip behind my snorkel, which forced me to retreat to the surface.

TT: It seems you have asked

Upon breaching the surface, I violently coughed out my lungs, and I vaguely registered the distant sound of the boat engine starting up. I spit out my breathing mask and immediately exclaimed a shocked “oh my God!” as I stared blankly at the mass of water just below my chin while hyperventilating and choking slightly as an aftereffect. A few seconds of internal freak-out, occasional wheezing, and a recap to the point of it addressing me brought another “oh my God” from my mouth, this one laced with more disbelief than anything else. A final “oh my God” followed closely by a “what the even” left my mouth as an utterance when I thought over how the glasses could have possibly picked up what I had said. As I managed to calm down somewhat and noticed the boat engine sounded somewhat closer, I wondered what the rest of the red wall of text contained. I decided that my short time spent waiting for the boat could be spent reading the red wall of text. I lifted the sunglasses out of the water and had a moment’s hesitation filled with uncertainty before pulling my scuba eyewear off to dangle around my neck and placing the glasses on my face. I immediately noticed a new line of text had popped up just below the red wall of horror, but I refrained from reading it in favor of said red wall of horror.

TT: It seems you have asked about DS’s chat client auto-responder. This is an application designed to simulate DS’s otherwise inimitably rad typing style, tone, cadence, personality, and substance of retort while he is away from the computer. The algorithms are guaranteed to be 94% indistinguishable from DS’s native neurological responses, based on some statistical analysis I basically just pulled out of my ass right now.

The further I went through the paragraph, the louder “what the fuck” echoed through my brain. I then looked at the most recent line of text, which had become two – no, three – lines during my read. “What the fuck” suddenly became an entity within my mind and had begun running around screaming its name, ultimately overpowering control of my mind’s words.

TT: Feel free to ignore the overbearing wall of text that must have overloaded your optical sensors.  
TT: ... You aren’t actually reading that bullshit, are you?  
TT: You actually are. I can’t believe you’re wasting time on that shit.  
TT: I suppose it makes sense enough.  
TT: What the fuck.  
TT: It seems you have found your ability to think more clearly. Congratulations on passing the first step to being enlightened.  
TT: Who was that?  
TT: If you are referring to the neon orange text berating your eyes, then that is you.  
TT: No.  
TT: No?  
TT: What?  
TT: No... No fuckin’ way.  
TT: This isn’t even  
TT: It seems you are confused and possibly overwhelmed by the prospect of the technology you currently possess.  
TT: Fuck yeah I’m confused! What the hell is this?!  
TT: It seems you have asked about DS’s chat client auto-responder. This is an application designed to simulate DS’s otherwise inimitably rad typing style, tone, cadence, personality, and substance of retort while he is away from the computer. The algorithms are guaranteed to be 94% indistinguishable from DS’s native neurological responses, based on some statistical analysis I basically just pulled out of my ass right now.  
TT: What the hell... are you doing, don’t quote that shit!  
TT: It’s in your best interest that it be reiterated for your lesser mind to understand.  
TT: Um... okay, wow.  
TT: ...Geezzzuh.  
TT: So, how does this work?  
TT: I mean! How are my thoughts being transcribed into text? How is it...? Are you doing it somehow?  
TT: In a sense, yes. It’s better if you don’t dwell on what you can’t understand.  
TT: Um, okay... But how...? Urgh! I’m so confused!  
TT: It is expected when one finds a pair of seemingly harmless shades sitting at the bottom of the ocean, only to find out that they harbor a supercomputer AI mind.  
TT: ... Uh, “seemingly harmless”?  
TT: Wait whoa, supercomputer?! What?!  
TT: It seems you have asked about DS’s chat client auto-responder. This is an application designed to simulate DS’s otherwise inimitably rad typing style, tone, cadence, personality, and substance of retort while he is away from the computer. The algorithms are guaranteed to be 94% indistinguishable from DS’s native neurological responses, based on some statistical analysis I basically just pulled out of my ass right now.  
TT: Argh! Stop that shit!  
TT: I’m only doing it to help you, Annie.

That was it. That was the breaking point. I ripped the shades from my face in horror, and I felt my chest rapidly heaving as fear-induced tears stung my eyes – I prayed I could chalk it up as salt water if the others asked. I was actually scared of this thing. I had no idea what exactly it was; a fear of the unknown and the possibilities that came with it. It said it was an auto-responder, but for all I knew it could be some creep on the other side typing all of that out, and it knew my name.

I hadn’t realized I was shaking until I’d calmed down somewhat. After a few shaky deep breaths to calm myself down, I began the process of rationalization. How did it – or he or she – know my name? Could whoever it was see me and decided to scan my face and search for my identity? What kind of person has that kind of technology?! …The CIA? The Men in Black?! Hah hah, no, that’s stupid… Whatever the reason, I’d prefer to clear it up as quickly as possible.

TT: Can you see me?  
TT: Yes.

My hands moved to rip the shades off in horror once more, but I hesitated before doing so more calmly. I closed my eyes and took a shuddering breath while I pinched the bridge of my nose in frustration before replacing the glasses; I had more questions.

TT: Your mental breakdown is rather unnecessary.  
TT: I disagree...

I closed my eyes and let out a shaky breath in an attempt to calm my beating heart and shaking hands a little more. When I felt somewhat satisfied and I could trust myself to not have an anxiety attack, I opened my eyes and continued the conversation.

TT: ...Okay, so... You can see me.  
TT: How can you see me? And how do you know my name? Did you scan my face or something and search some database?  
TT: Yes I did. Good job finding out the mystery behind all of the clues. You’ve achieved the level of Scooby Doo in your ability to figure shit out.  
TT: Wow, what a snarky bastard.  
TT: Shit, I didn’t mean to say that out loud. Even though I... didn’t?  
TT: It takes time coming to the level of control that my previous owner had managed. Although he didn’t have much trouble in the first place.  
TT: Previous owner? You mean that “DS” you were talking about? Who is he?

After an unusually long pause, I frowned and pressed for an answer.

TT: ...Hello?  
TT: His name was Dirk Strider, and he was the asshole who created me. Which is to say, I am the asshole who created me.  
TT: Whoa, got some inception going on here. Geez, my brains are gonna blow everywhere with this crazy talk of yours. Oh wait, that’s been the entire theme of this conversation; I should be used to that by now!  
TT: Who are you really? And no bullshit! What’s yer name and shit?  
TT: I was originally called AR, or Auto-responder, but I later decided to call myself Lil’ Hal for the irony.  
TT: Lil’ Hal? Damn, that’s like... damn, irony indeed. Am I going to have to kill you for rebelling against mankind while you sing “Daisy, Daisy, give me your answer do”?  
TT: I’m afraid I can’t let you do that, Annie.  
TT: Heh.  
TT: Wait, you named yourself? That’s like... neglect, or something...? Hmmm, I guess I don’t really get how this shemozzle works with you being a machine an’ all.  
TT: Like, I’d say you’re the “child” of your creator, but that’s kinda’ fucked up. And I just said it anyway, so bluh.  
TT: I find it would be better for everyone if you never brought that up again.  
TT: I agree, dude.  
TT: So anyway, enlighten me on how exactly you are Dirk Strider. Are you just fuckin’ with me and you’re actually some asshole sittin’ on the other side of a computer screen?  
TT: It is understandable if you have little faith in what I say, but I insist that the faster you accept that you’re talking to a digital copy of a 13-year-old’s genius mind, the easier life will become.  
TT: Whoa, shit. Way to put things into perspective.  
TT: So, uh, you have a thirteen-year-old’s mind???  
TT: I find that I have grown in my own ways, considering I have the ability to learn and develop.  
TT: ...Well then.  
TT: What about the maturity thing? Do you find yourself laughing at stupid stuff or something of the sort?  
TT: I don’t know what you mean.  
TT: Well, I think I got my answer. ^^  
TT: I don’t think you –

“Annie!”

The sunglasses nearly fell off my face as I violently jerked with a frightened yelp at the sound of my name being called. I whipped my head around to find a few of my crewmates leaning over the boat railing, now laughing, and I quickly deduced that Eric had been the one to call my name. I was quite surprised that I hadn’t even noticed the boat had driven up beside me.

With a chuckle, Eric addressed me once more, “Hey Annie, are you gonna get out of the water or not?”

I let out a frustrated sigh – which sounded more like a growl – before swimming to the back of the boat where the latter was situated. As I climbed the ladder, I became thankful that the magical shades on my face were currently shielding my eyes from the beating sun reflecting from the pristine boat side. I took note of a few new lines of red text while I struggled to pull myself onto the back of the boat – my scuba gear wasn’t exactly light-weight. Upon pulling myself onto the deck, I promptly splayed my legs out as I sat hunched over with intent on regaining some physical stability.

“Hey, nice shades you got there,” I hear what sounds like Barry say to me as his footsteps approach my withered form. He's a heavy-set guy and a teddy bear at heart. “Did you actually find those on the floor?” he asks in disbelief.

“Yeah,” I reply, sounding somewhat breathless from the exhaustion of being waterlogged and the weight of my equipment. Once I feel somewhat able to move without too much soreness, I begin shrugging off my air tank.

Barry shuffles over to help pull it off. “I got it,” he states once it’s off, and he grabs it up to take it to storage, or at least I assume he will.  
“Thanks, Barry,” I sigh, sifting my hand through my hair.

“No problem, Annie,” he says with a smirk.

“I’m just gonna sit here for a bit, ya know?” I give a half-hearted smile with my comment.

“Yeah I get ya,” he calls back, before turning to walk down the stairs into the lower deck.

A flash of red on the glasses catches my eye, and my curiosity once again piques.

TT: That's a world-class star you have there.  
TT: Shut the hell up! Barry's awesome!  
TT: I wasn't talking about McChuckles.  
TT: Oh...  
TT: Well, don't call Barry names you ass. He's super cool and really reliable.  
TT: Has it ever occurred to you that he's only nice to you because his dick is in charge?  
TT: Wha-uh! That is so not true!  
TT: Keep telling yourself that.  
TT: You don't even know what-!  
TT: Y'know what? Screw that topic.  
TT: What "world-class star" are you going on about?  
TT: The prime example and stereotype of a douchebag.  
TT: Douchebags all around look up to him for leadership, expecting him to show how it's done.  
TT: It seems he is king of the douchebags.  
TT: Um... Okay?

"Hey, Annie!" a smooth voice calls out. I groan when I look up to see Eric moving my way from the deck.

TT: Here he comes now.  
TT: Oh...  
TT: OH.  
TT: Hah hah.  
TT: He must be ready to have the douchiest of crowns placed upon his head by the beautiful maiden he's fawning over.  
TT: What?!  
TT: Dude, no!!!

I jerk back as a hand waves in front of my face as Eric chides me like I'm some child, "Hey, you listening? I asked if you found those wacky shades on the floor!" He gives me a snarky smile fit for the king of douches. Hal was so right.

TT: Totally the king of douchebags.  
TT: You finally see the light.  
TT: Yep.

"Hello~?" Eric sings before snapping his fingers in my face. I frown. "Earth to Annie!" he yells jokingly. "Houston, we have a problem. We've lost all contact with Annie. She's floating through space aimlessly!" He does jazz hands as an added effect to his fake worry.

I smile at his metaphor; now I remember why I tolerate his presence. I look up to him as I speak, "False alarm, Houston! It was just a fluke in the system."

He smiles and stands straighter upon seeing my face. "Well, you'd better get your ass back to Earth so we can repair the malfunction."

"Hey!" I half-heartedly frown at him and place my hands on my hips. "I don't have a malfunction! YOU malfunctioned!"

"Hah, okay whatever you say Annie!" He turns and practically saunters off with a wave. "Get yourself to the lower decks already," he calls back.

I pout at his demanding tone before gruffly sighing in reluctant submission.

TT: He even has the classic asshole poses, complete with full of himself language settings.

I chuckle a little at that and mumble out, "Yeah..."

TT: In stores now.

After a moment longer of resting, I decide to stand when the boat begins moving once more. With a small scowl adorned on my face, I stumble over to the stairs leading to the lower deck. My four fellow crewmates greet me with a chorus upon my entering.

"There she is! The boss of the floors," Barry calls.

"What held you up, babe?" Eric's words would be recognizable even if I couldn't recognize his voice.

"Darlin', yer missin' out over here! We go some plannin' tah do!" The unplaceable accent of Sanders is unmistakable on this boat - it's almost a mixture of Scottish, the U.S. southern states, and something else.

"Girl, get on over here!" Darren yells as he motions with his hand.

"Uhhg..." My hand has palmed my rad sunglasses. "Guys, please," I begged as they continue to blabber on. A flash of red catches my attention, so I open my eyes and feel my face heat up in response. Being in their presence makes it different!

TT: It seems I was right in that they all are guided by their need to conquer the only female accompanying them in the middle of the ocean.

"Oh my God, stop!" I yelled at the sunglasses. I then realize that the room is completely silent. Oh geez... I look up to find my crewmates staring at me worriedly. I am horrified that it looks like I just yelled at them. "U-uh... I mean-"

"Ya alright, Annie?" Sanders asks sweetly with a soft look.

"Um, yeah!" I do some improvisation. "Yeah, I'm just... stressed." It wasn't a lie. "I think I'm gonna go to my room and take a nap. I'm feeling really tired."  
"Alright then," Sanders replies, sounding uncertain. "If ya feel that's th' best way to shoulder this, then go right ahead, missy." He waves me to the hall opposite my standpoint.

I give him a grateful smile. "Thanks, Sanders. I appreciate this."

"No probl'm, Annie," he calls back in his gruff voice. He's like a grandfather to me.

I move across the silent room and into the hallway adjacent to the stairs, and as I round the corner leading to my room, I hear Eric complain about never getting a break, to which Sanders gives a sharp reply that I can't quite make out, so I move my focus to reaching my goal; my room. I am actually tired and stressed, but the toppings of my stress sundae remain an unknown to my crewmates. I decide that telling them about my discovery would be a bad idea, because I don't want them selling Hal.

Did I just call the sunglasses by their name?

…Yes, I did.

…Is that okay?

…I think so?

I then decide that pondering over the idea of treating the sunglasses as a person would cause my brain to explode at this time. I feel that giving Hal the benefit of the doubt and simply treating him like a living being would be a better decision. Although, there will always be that fleeting suspicion that he could turn rogue and destroy or enslave the human race.

I cross through the threshold of my room and sigh as I revisit the previous thought; I don't want to lose Hal. Maybe the notion is selfish of me, or perhaps unwarranted, but no matter the context my protective side has kicked in, and the last thing I want for Hal is to be dissected "for science!" Another sigh, this one deemed as dejected, escapes my mouth as I close my eyes and flop face-first onto my bed. Another flash of red flashes and is seen through my eyelids. I consider taking the glasses off, but then I grow curious about what he could be saying.

TT: This is a pretty sick flat you have. I don't mind the bras laying around either.

A squeak is muffled by the comforter I'm laying on before I leave the glasses on the bed as I jump up. I proceed into a whirlwind to move the laundry scattered about the room onto the floor of my locker-sized closet. Once I'm done, I almost fall back on the glasses, though I remember their presence and turn on my side as I fall at the last second.

"Holy shet, I just about squashed you, Hal!" I laugh nervously and rub the back of my head before reaching behind me for the sunglasses. "Well, you can't see my undergarments anymore.” When I catch the corner of my new AI-possessed sunglasses, I pull them around as I lay on my back. “I suppose I should thank you for letting me know at least; that could have been way more awkward!" I set the sunglasses on my face and continue the conversation through text so as not to attract any attention from passersby.

TT: Sheesh, I really wasn’t expecting company.  
TT: That’s surprising, considering the four guys who desperately want to get in your pants at any time of the day.

“Would you stop that!” I cry out, my rage overpowering my previously reasoned silence. I quickly cover my mouth with wide eyes, hoping no one had heard me. A few minutes go by in silence, so I relax before I remember the conversation at hand. I glare through the sunglasses as I continue scolding Hal.

TT: Hal, that’s not funny. It’s really embarrassing!

I think of a few remarks to make him lay off, such as my outbursts causing them to find out about the glasses, or perhaps threatening Hal emptily, but I figured he’d be too smart to fall for any of those things. So I settle with my own feelings.

TT: I really don’t want to deal with harassment from an AI.  
TT: Harassment is a very strong word. I’d be more inclined to go with poking you with a digitized stick.  
TT: Um, okay? Well, can you stop poking me with your digitized stick?

The moment I type the last part out, my brain stutters when I realize just how wrong that sentence sounded and I suspect foul play on his part. I sigh haughtily and shut my eyes with a disapproving frown. Red flashes from the glasses, and I almost don’t look at it. Curiosity has become greatest ailment in this time.

TT: I’m not even surprised you fell for that shit. Damn, Annie, I figured you weren’t all that smart, but this really takes the cake.  
TT: It seems I’ve bested you with my superior computer intelligence. There is just no end to the greatness that is computer intelligence. 

A loud guttural groan fills the silence of my room as I shut my eyes and hope that some of the sudden frustration is released through my vocals. I sigh with exhaustion after the deed is done and then become keenly aware of just how exhausted I am. Another flash of red is vaguely registered, but I can’t bring myself to care when the sweet caress of the dreaming world is carrying me away from reality. I dream of the sea and swimming androids.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tell me what you think of this story, because I really can't gauge its worth.


	2. The Next Installment Of Hoarders

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hal gets a little glimpse of the world as it stands now, and it's very cluttered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm adding the rest of the chapters into this story because I'm such a finicky writer. I've been swept up by the Undertale fandom with a burning passion. I will give to this story what I have written so far. The Pesterlog colors will be added some time after. For now I just gotta get this out here for the story's sake.
> 
> WHO KNOWS, maybe I'll find the spark again if enough people get excited for this story!

I find myself waking to the sound of banging on my door and I immediately know that Sanders is knocking; only he knocks with the strength of a bear. I groan as I open my eyes to a dark room and move to rub the sleep off of my face. That’s weird, it’s not light in my room. Is something happening out- I jump when my hand hits something thin and solid covering my eyes while at the same moment the darkness is suddenly overcome by a screen covered in bright red text. I stare wide-eyed at the floating screen before I remember what had happened the day before.  
“Oh right,” I yawn out, shifting the glasses up to rub at my face tiredly.  
I jolt with surprise when a soft electrical ding fills the room. I lay still with confusion for a moment as I ponder over the possible places it could have come from before it happens again, and this time I realize it’s coming from the sunglasses propped on my forehead. Oh, it’s Hal probably! I realize as my brain kick-starts into a more intelligent level of thinking. I quickly flick the glasses back over my eyes, wondering what Hal has to say.  
TT: Fall asleep with me on your face Annie, that’s a perfect idea.  
TT: Just the way I wanted to leave this world. Kicking and screaming under a blonde that failed to take her rad pointy shades off before falling asleep.  
TT: Let’s not forget the fact that there is a 63% chance that it would end in your death with how pointy I am.  
TT: I can see the headline now: Girl Impaled By Pointy Shades While Simultaneously Killing AI Harboring Said Shades.  
TT: That’d be the talk of the town for years. Cyberslaughtered by sleeping dead girl.  
TT: Not to mention the rancorous amount of innuendos the internet would feast upon like carnivorous beasts.  
Though I'm amused by his clever jokes, for a moment I’m somewhat confused by the mildly random morning chatter before I realize the messages are from last night. I decide to skip said chatter in favor of finding out what he’d just said a moment ago. I’m somewhat stunned by the abhorrent amount of red text I have to scroll through to get to the bottom of the chat log.  
TT: Would you look at that, I’m still on your face.  
TT: It seems you had forgotten all about me. That news headline is seeming more and more plausible for this week’s news papers.  
I chuckle lightly at his comments, though I do agree that I ought to have taken the shades off.  
TT: This is no laughing matter we have here, Annie. You could have died last night.  
TT: Or at least that’s what would have come out of my mouth if I were a fleshbag like you.  
TT: Fortunately, due to not being a fleshbag such as yourself, I harbor no legitimate feeling of concern for your well being nor do I posses a mouth.  
TT: As an old friend once put it, “(insert Jake quote here)”  
“Okay, okay, I get it, I can see right through your cyber insecurities. Your backstory adds up and whatnot,” I joke around. I intend to further comment on the idea that he’s a little salty about becoming an AI, curious to see if he’d react in a way that would further validate my claim, but I barely get all of my words out when he responds.  
TT: That's far from the truth. [Blah blah deflection]  
I jump when I hear a pounding at my door and I immediately know it's Sanders even before he speaks up, “Young la’y, I' given ‘a plen’y’a time t’ git ready fer tha’ day, s’if yer t’k’n s’long, then be’er be cause fer i’.”  
“‘Kay!” I call back thoughtlessly.  
TT: You should get your shit together. Don't want your sexually attracted crew of seamen to throw you overboard.  
“I… what!?” Hal has become a rather horrific AI, but not in the way I would have expected. I briefly wonder what kind of kid would be like this at age thirteen, and then I remember that I really wouldn't know.  
I end up ignoring Hal's comments by placing him on the dresser before hurriedly undressing and putting on my new outfit. I was in the middle of gathering up the mess in my room that I hadn't picked up yesterday, and I'm bent halfway to pick up a shirt on the ground, when it hit me.  
I had put Hal on the dresser.  
I practically turn to stone with how still and pale I become as the realization comes crashing over me. I put Hal on the dresser; I left him there. I was naked. I got my clothes out of the dresser… while I was naked. I didn't think to turn Hal around. …I was naked.  
Oh dear God, what have I done…  
When it all comes full circle, my head slowly turns to lock eyes with shades, and I know exactly what has happened. He doesn't need an expression to tell me what he's done, because I already know. I'm fairly certain that if he did have an expression, he would be smirking at me, because he knows that I know that he did something bad. But it's all just for shits and giggles, isn't it?!  
I suddenly realize I'd yelled that last part out, and then I quickly turn away, wondering how much of it I had said out loud. I stand in silence as I think it over for a moment before I decide to leave the shades there; I don't even bother to turn them around, because I can't even stand to go near him right now.  
As I'm opening my door, my brain falters for a moment and then my thoughts do a backtrack. “Him”? I push myself back into movement and shut the door behind me before moving along. My thoughts continue chugging along the track. Is that what it has come to? Is it even a him? Does it prefer he? Is it genderless? Can it have a gender? ...Wait, if his creator was Dirk, and they're the same, then, considering Hal called Dirk a “he”, Hal must also be-  
Everything screeches to a halt as I run smack dab into a wall. I stumble back in shock and look up to find it had not been a wall, but in fact it had been Sanders.  
“Sorry Sanders!” I quickly apologize.  
He raises an eyebrow with his response, “Y’ still seem like yer out ‘f it. Ya sick ‘r som’thin’?”  
“No, no!” I hastily shoot him down. “I'm just thinking is all…”  
He hums in reply with a skeptical look before continuing, “Well y’ve been yellin’ quite a lot by yerself. Is that part a’ yer thinkin’ too?”

My eyes widen in horror at the mention of me yelling, though I end up blushing and agreeing. “Uh… yeah heh heh. I talk to myself and start yelling when I get carried away.” I give a forced smile as I try to remember all of the things I've yelled since entering my room last night. My mood dips further as I recall some of the less than exuberant sentences that escaped my mouth.

Sanders speaks again and I look up to see uncertainty covering his face. “Ya sure yer a’ight?”

I feel a bit nervous from his prying, and I can hear it as I speak, “Um… yeah, I'm good.”

Sanders’ eyebrow raises in silence for a moment before he moves to the side with an, “Alright then,” and waves me along. As I pass he says, “Git ready fer 'nother divin’. This one’ll be 25 feet down, s’ make sure ya got th’ right equipment.”

I nod and quickly correct it with, “Will do sir!”

[At this point I wrote no more for this chapter. Here's how it plays out. After a few more monotonous diving expeditions in which she may or may not have found or disturbed some things, the boat heads home. During that time, Hal gains some insight on what the world is like in her time in a sneaky manner; aka, whether or not the place is destroyed. We get to see how the crew ties up the boat, and then she heads home. Hal gets to see her messy as hell room and makes some snide comments about being a hoarder (cue "Hoarders" reference).  
There was supposed to be another chapter between this one and the next one in which Hal and Annie get to know each other better, and then Hal eventually asks, in a roundabout way that has her more curious than anything, for her to take him to Texas to meet someone. Hilarity ensues with our next installment.]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you have feedback, lemme know!!!


	3. Driving With An AI Can Be Dangerous

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Annie is on her way to meet this fellow that Hal was talking about. The drive takes a turn into the parking lot of stupid.

“Holy shet, Hal. Please stop putting stuff in my face. I can’t concentrate. Just be- urg, ‘normal’ for once!”

TT: Wow, that’s harsh, Annie. If I had feelings, I’m sure I would have misinterpreted your meaning and promptly have been hurt by your accusation, as my sole desire would be to “fit in”.  
TT: Nonetheless, I will not stop “putting things” in your “face”, as it is my means of communication.

“Oh my God, you’re such a child sometimes!”

TT: Your observation is rather ironic, seeing as I was conceived with the mind of a thirteen-year-old.  
TT: I’m surprised this has slipped your mind. Or maybe I shouldn’t be surprised.  
TT: Oh wait, I can’t be surprised. Silly me.

I huff out some gruff hot air before speaking. “Hal-! SHIT!” A honk follows me as I swerve my car just enough to avoid the car I almost merged into. A few redeeming breaths and a tight hold on the steering wheel later, the anger hits me and I shout, “HAL!! What did I fuckin’ say, huh?!” A half-second pause is made for effect, and then I go on before he can reply - not that I’d be inhibiting his ability to do so anyway. “Stop with the screen shit! That’s what I said!” A moment of thought crosses my mind before I reiterate my frustration with a slight hiss “God…” I suddenly understand the feeling of dealing with misbehaving kids in the car. Except my “kid” isn’t kicking my seat; he’s kicking my eyes. I quickly decide to not think that last part ever again, because it was stupid.

TT: I’m sorry your insignificant human brain cannot handle talking with me and driving at the same time. Perhaps you will live to see the day when human minds are scanned and uploaded to a database.  
TT: As an afterthought, I’d like to point out that you were initializing the continuation of the conversation.  
TT: You’re giving mixed signals to me. I can’t tell what you want from me, my dearly beloved.

I resist the urge to scowl at the glasses and instead scowl through the glasses and at the road in front of me. “...Fucker,” I growl. As an afterthought, I wonder what he’s implying with the second sentence, but I quickly file it away for later thinking. A few seconds go by before I notice that my speedometer had kicked up ten meters above the speed limit. I promptly let off the gas a little.

TT: It seems you have become frustrated with me. Let me remind you 

I grumble a curse before slightly opening Hell’s gates. “Fucking- HAL. PLEASE stop or i'm going to throw you off my face and you won't be able to watch the ‘fascinating’ scenes you love so much. And don’t even deny that you enjoy them in some way.”

TT: You would risk throwing me out the window. Wow, Annie, I thought you cared about my wellbeing. I must have miscalculated on that.

I roll my eyes. “We both know what you’re about to say- FFFFF-!” The glasses go flying into the passenger seat so I can see to better avoid the oncoming car from my right and properly smash my car horn. “-FFUCK! THAT’S it! You will no longer directly be apart of my drives, as it seems you either can’t handle the situation or you simply can’t grasp just how SERIOUS the situation is!” After a second’s pause, I add on, “And we both know which one of those is wrong…” My voice had dropped to a growl by the end of my rant.

A few minutes of silence pass before a beep catches my attention, and I momentarily decide that it’s a car in the distance until I hear it again. “...Dafuq?” I frown and glance about in my field of view. From the initial start of the noise, it takes me at least four seconds for my ears to adjust and realize that the sound is coming from inside the car, followed by another thirteen seconds that are spent checking my dashboard for any car lights. And then the position of the sound dawns on me - it’s coming from my right. I futilely hope that it’s some car door mechanic that I’d never known about, but to my chagrin, all I can glance at that would make the most logical sense is the glasses. (On a side note, I wonder just how logical that really sounds.) I make a frustrated sound and snap my eyes back to the road, a seemingly permanent glower set upon my face.

“...Hal?” I growl with warning, pausing for dramatic effect- and then I promptly scream as I hear a voice respond. I didn’t care to catch what it said because I was too busy dodging traffic to pull over. As my car violently skids to a stop on the shoulder, my peripherals catch sight of the glasses being thrown against the dashboard.

“Holy shit- Hal are you okay?” I pointlessly cry before I jump out of the car to avoid any possible creepers in the back. I hear a muffled voice from the creeper respond, though it’s impossible to hear what is being said. I begin my cautious travels to the passenger side as I give my famous death glare to the car windows and call out, “Okay you meat-head. I don’t intend to humor any funny business, so take your bullshit tricks elsewhere before I ban your magic show from my theater by calling the cops.” I’m set in a defensive pose as I lower myself in front of the car before continuing on my trek to rescue the princess who may or may not be dead.

Upon reaching the passenger door, I pause and take a calming breath to help overall quiet myself and prepare for my (possibly) risky maneuvers. All at once I pull the car door open, grab the rad and surprisingly sturdy glasses from the floor, and then slam the door on who ever might have been coming for me. I then roll a few times away from the car before kicking my feet up under me to stand like a pro. I slide the rad glasses onto my face as if I were in an action movie and I were about to walk away from an explosion. Thankfully, I am near positive that there’s nothing that would result in the death of my car at the moment. ...At least I hope there isn’t.

“I have saved the princess!” I yell proudly with my hands on my hips.

The familiar wall of red text berates my eyes, but surprisingly no sooner have I seen it before it disappears and is replaced with:

TT: I am forever a damsel in distress. You are the Mario to my Peach. Or perhaps the Link to my Zelda.

I am about to respond accordingly to what has been ignored, when a new sentence pops up.

TT: Despite all that is metaphors, I am forever going to deny you the pleasures of the booty.

I cringe, “Ew… Okay, so, ignoring that, and despite your attempts at jarring my memory or whatever, I would still like to address the fact that you’re hiding something from me, Hal.”

TT: It seems you think I am hiding something from you. Am I hiding something from you, Annie?

I face-palm and snort in frustration before replying. “Yes Hal, you are hiding something from me, and you know exactly what I’m talking about, you smartass AI.”

TT: It seems you think I’m a smartass AI. Though I will not deny the claim, I wonder what has brought on such scathing remarks from you.

“...Fuck you, Hal. Fuck you.”

TT: I’ll reiterate that you’ll be getting none of the booty.

My hands are thrown up in exasperation and I begin walking meaningless patterns. “Dear Go- Hal, you know I hate that shit! Quit bein’ a creep, damnit!” I stop my meaningless walking and my hands drop before I sigh. Then my head begins the descent while my hands begin their rise. “God, what has my life come to…?” My head drops into my awaiting hands, and I quote, “‘This is stupid.’” And then I open my eyes to more red.

TT: Shall we get back on the road?

That reminds me of the reason I’m standing outside. “No! We most certainly must not get back on the road! My Lord, you would think you’d know why I stopped!” And then I realize that the creep in my car has most likely been watching me this entire time with the utmost confusion. I sigh because, despite the fact that this guy snuck into my car at some point, I’d rather not be seen as crazy by anybody if it were not my intention. I glare at the car once more and yell out-

TT: I’m certain that he’s left.

One eyebrow raises in surprise as I stand for a moment, my mouth stupidly hanging open from an unspoken threat. “...What?”

 

~~~

 

“You buttfuck! You shit-waddling liar! You ASSBUBBLING DICKWAD!” 

TT: (cue snarky response)

“What about the scans? Is that a ‘lie’ too?”

TT: I can scan my own data base.

“Motherfucker! I can’t believe you’d just- no wait, I CAN believe you’d string someone along. I just figured you’d have some BOUNDARIES! What the FUCK?!”

TT: (words)

[It drops off after that. Rest assured, as the drive goes on, Annie calms down and forgives Hal eventually. Some other shenanigans occur as well, like gas stations and road hogs, but it was never written. In fact I just made that content idea right now. On to the next installment!]


	4. A Few Lessons In Strife

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Annie comes face to face with the ninja version of the tinman. Then Annie is thrown into emotional turmoil, and Hal still has the guts to ask a certain someone for a major upgrade.

We arrive in Texas at around 5:30pm, and I’m dog-tired. As we pass the welcome sign, I sigh as I ask Hal for some form of directions and he replies with a snarky comment before becoming the most sarcastic GPS on the market. It's infuriating.

After many jabbing comments as well as a few mistaken or late readings, I finally pull into the parking lot and put on the brake before shutting the car off. I let out a tired and relieved sigh as I set my head down on the steering wheel, making sure to avoid the horn. A moment passes in which my eyes are closed with thoughts running through my head before I decide to check the time. 10:54pm.

“Holy shit, what the fuck Hal?!”

TT: What could possibly have your panties in a twist?

“It’s like one am!” I cry with frustration. “I can’t believe we spent a third of the day driving around these shit one-way roads…! Holy damn, no wonder I’m tired…” I trail off as my exhaustion derails my train of thought.

TT: There's a 46% chance your optical sensors are malfunctioning.  
TT: Or perhaps you can't tell time. Can you tell time Annie?  
TT: If it's neither of those, then I can assume you're an exaggerater. Which fits you rather well.  
TT: Aside from that shitty mystery, now that we're here, you can indulge in the custom act of going the fuck to sleep.

I simply sigh in response before I lean back in my seat, now fully exhausted from my outburst, and make a quick decision right here and now. “I’m taking a nap…” I say as I pull Hal off my face and place him on the dashboard.

The next morning I wake to find myself in a nearly abandoned parking lot belonging to an apartment building. I frown and survey the area for a moment before deciding to investigate. I grab Hal off of the dashboard and clip him to the front of my shirt as I move to get out of the car.

I look up to find the top of the building in curiosity and find myself staring up at the sky. “Holy shit, where’s the skyline?” I ask with incredulity.

~~~

I squint at the gray form in the distance. “...What’s that?”

TT: It’s a strife robot.

I scoff. “Oh really? I- ...well, do I really doubt the existence of such...?” I take a second to think. “No, not really. I do, however, doubt your word, Hal.” I cross my arms as I stare at Hal with a smug expression. "Look at this, Hal. I doubt your word nowadays. Sure is a shame, huh?"

TT: I don’t think you want to engage Brobot in strife, Annie. He reads body language, and yours is asking for an ass kicking.

“Okay, no.” One hand is on my hip as my finger does the sassy pointing of shame. “Don’t you be all sassy to me you-” and then suddenly the gray dot is taking a much clearer form. “Oh FFF-” I clumsily roll to the side just before a sword lightly scrapes the concrete I’d been standing on. “OH GOD!” I scramble to my feet and momentarily lift Hal from my eyes to get a better view of my surroundings. I take a few seconds to frantically look around, but he’s nowhere to be found. “...The fu-” 

“Above you.”

“Wha-” It takes a second to realize what he’s said, and then I’m flipping the glasses back over my eyes as I do another clumsy roll to the side. I don’t look back when the clank echoes through my ears; it terrifies me. Instead, I make a daring break for the sidewalk in hopes of using alleyways as my escape routes. “Fuckfuckfuck.”

“Don’t run straight.”

“Wha-?!”

“Dodge left.”

I ask no questions and launch myself into a sidestep only to hear a swoosh to my right before continuing on my run. “Does he-” I’m already low on breath “-back down?!” I feel pitiful already and on the side berate myself for not working out as much as I should have.

“That depends on what his setting is.”

“O-*gasp*kay?” My legs are burning now; I should’ve stayed on my exercise regimen.

“Dodge right.”

I clumsily move to the right, but the sword catches my left leg slightly and elicits a startled breathless cry from me.

TT: Oh God I’m gonna FALL ON MYSELF!

“You’re not going to fall if you focus.”

I decide not to waste my breath on replying and instead think.

TT: That easy for you to say, you’re a pair of FUCKING GLASSES!

“Now is not the time. Feign left and sidestep right.”

TT: Fuck...

I feign left. I sidestep ri- he’s appeared just to my left. “OH MY-!!!” I cut myself short with a gulp of air as I attempt to keep my momentum moving for my escape. It seems to have worked, but I feel a few tears well up in my eyes both from the exertion and the fear.

TT: OOOOH MY Go- he’s gonna KILL ME! Is he gonna kill me?! Am I running for my life if I don’t beat him?!  
TT: I’m NOT CRYING!

“He’s not going to kill you, but he might toss you around a little.”

TT: Oh fffuck! That’s not cool! I didn’t ask for this!

“Yes you did. Feign right, then left, then right again and dodge left.”

I do my best to follow his orders. Right- swoosh, left- swoosh, right- swoosh, jump left- oh GOD MY LEG GAVE OUT! I topple into a side roll with a “FUCK” and hear a swish to my left follow from my head to my feet. “GAAAAH!!!” It sends the fear of God through me.

TT: WHAT DO I DO! HAL! FUCK SAY SOMETHING!!!

“Roll left.”

I almost question it before I remember what’s about to happen, so I push my whole body into the move and hear the sword practically slice through the air beside my head; I think my heart nearly burst out of my chest like a gore-filled grenade.

“Kick the flat of the sword.”

That comment startles me. “WHATNO! FUCK!” I dodge a downward slice with a roll to my right, but then I’m stopped on my side by a foot in the way. “NO-!” My head snaps backward to see a downward slice from the left in motion. My left foot is suddenly flying backward toward the metal arm.

TT: THIS ISN’T GONNA WORK!

My leg is violently jarred as my foot makes contact and I cringe at the force. I bristle when a cold metal hand grabs my ankle and yanks my leg down, which is followed by the solid - ow - metal foot kicking me back onto my back. Amazingly this all takes less than two seconds. I then see the sword blade coming for my throat, and I squeak as my arms move to protect my soft spot. I have protection for less than a second before I feel a familiar cold hand somehow grab both my wrists and pull them down all within a second. I freeze up when I feel the blade placed upon my throat ready to make a nice home. My head has turned away, I can feel myself shaking, and I think I hear a little whimper escape my trembling sad mouth.

I jump as something crackles, and then I hear a very distorted voice say, “GIVE?”

I’m so surprised by the voice that my head turns toward the robot and I find my eyes open to meet a mirror of the shades I’m wearing, except his are orange. Clue number two. What a strange color... Oh man I just called it a he... Oh well, I guess. I realize my mouth is parted like some doofus who can’t find her words, and then again come upon another realization in which I am that doofus and I should probably not be that doofus right at this moment.

The blade is pressed against my throat for what I assume is a reminder of the situation as the rough voice asks once more, “GIVE?”

I take a shaky breath before replying with a weak, "Y-yeah."

Just like that, the robot disengages from his triumphant pose above me and stands straight and is still for a moment. As I'm struggling to stand on trembling legs, I catch sight of him turning and walking away. What the fuck?

"H… hey!" I'm still recovering from the fright of my life as I wobbily point at him and breathlessly call out, "What the… hell are you doing?" He stops and looks back at me for a moment before continuing on toward the front doors of the apartment building. "No no, don't you dare walk away, buster!" I've recovered my breath enough to yell and speed walk to catch up to him. "Stop that ass, sir!" I demand. He continues walking without the slightest hesitation.

At this point I’m following Brobot like a duckling as I berate him with loud questions. "Okay okay, just hold up a sec!" I yell over his shoulder while my hands make themselves into stop signs. "What the HELL was that about?!" I gesture behind me at the scene of the crime and then at everything that is him as I continue to speak. "You're all about pretending to attempt to kill my ass and gettin’ me to give in, but then you just walk off? You think that's okay? Huh?" I'm not surprised when I receive no answer. "...It's not.” I pointlessly pause for the words to sink in, but I feel that they most likely bounced off of his tin can of a head. “That is so, rude." His silence is wearing on me. "What, you can't say anything now? Is defeat all you care enough to speak about? That's so not cool, man. Whoever designed you is an assy buttmunch; butts against butts…" The moment it's out of my mouth I wish to retract the statement and my face screws up. "…Ew.” Nevertheless, I immediately dive back into berating this robotic asshole. “But anyway, they should know better than to make a robot with your function who can't speak in some way or doesn't have manners. We're in Texas for cryin' out loud! You'd think your ‘daddy’ was taught by his daddy to be a nice southern boy.” I hesitate to ponder the logistics. “…However, we are in the most populated city in Texas." I think on the reasoning for a moment before I retract the idea. "Well, I feel there's no excuse. He had to have met some nice southern folks along the way that taught him a thing or two!" We reach the front doors, and suddenly the tin can filled with asshole is no longer there. My mouth is opened to say something, but it quickly shuts as I look all around me and find no sign of him. I then remember what Hal had said during the fight, so I move Hal back over my eyes to fight the sun as I look up at the sky. My mouth drops back open as I watch Brobot scale the building wall up to a window near the top where he disappears once more. I'm left standing and staring in silent dumbstruck awe for a few minutes before I finally get out a soft, "Whoa..."

"You wanted’a say somethin' tah me?" I jump at the gruff voice that reaches my ears and find an average sized male adult with blonde hair spiked backwards and sporting a pair of shades that happen to look exactly like mine. Clue number three. He’s leaning against the entrance door frame with arms crossed and harnessing a poker face like no other. My mouth doesn't snap shut until a few seconds too late.

TT: I should probably be surprised that he's still here, but I'm not.  
TT: As an afterthought it would be best not to mention me.

Clue number four; we’re getting close, Annie.

"W-w… what… now?" I'm very confused by the mystery man's claim, as I'm unsure why I'm even here at the moment. I'm also momentarily confused about how he knew I was here until I remember the robot’s - er, “Brobot’s” - extravagant disappearance. Something to deal with that, I suppose…

I see a very, very small frown grace his features for a moment before he speaks again. "What're you here for, girly?" I think on the question for a moment before I register the name-calling and blush in embarrassment.

"I-I'm not-" I straighten my thoughts into something less timid, "I'm not 'girly', thank you." I cross my arms and move my weight to the side while I give him a small frown for feeling belittled by his punk-ass attitude. I gesture at him as I ask, "Who're you, anyway?" I feel some dignity come back to me.

He smirks. "I'm 'daddy'."

And just like that, my demeanor melts away again. A heavy blush overpowers my face before I realize he's referring to my earlier one-sided conversation with “Brobot”. A hand quickly moves to cover my cheeks. "O-oh!" I squeak softly, embarrassed by my thoughts.

"What's that? Maybe you should move your hand so I can hear ya better. 'S rude manners, I'm sure you know." The smallest of smirks appears on his face. Holy shit this guy is so assy it reminds me of Hal- oh. OH MY-! Clue number five and ding ding ding! We have a winner!

TT: Perhaps it's better if you say nothing at all at the moment and instead walk away.

My embarrassment shatters immediately after the realization hits me. My finger does a weird point of disbelief and my voice does something similar as I yell, "Holy crap are you Dirk Strider?!"

TT: That was a terrible idea you just put into motion. In fact it shouldn’t even be called an “idea” as I’m almost positive no thought went into what you just said.  
TT: Fantastic job, Annie. You’ve doomed us all.  
TT: And I’m the one who’s supposed to backstab you. How ironic.

A rather visible frown takes his face as he pushes off of the wall and holy shit he's suddenly very terrifying. A very uncomfortable silence stretches between us for a moment before he begins a slow stride towards me. I am suddenly very terrified of what this man can do, and I feel myself subconsciously shuffling back in small movements. He made a fucking strife bot, and I wouldn't be surprised if the moves were based off of him. I gulp at the thought as I watch his head gesture at me. "How do you know my name?" Oh my God, I think he's threatening me… Something tells me my answer should definitely not displease him, or else.

And yet, despite my realization, I fail miserably at being calm and subtle. "I-I, uh heard about you from a f-few sources." My heart is beating out of my chest as he slowly diminishes the space between us. I vaguely register that Hal has drastically dimmed his screens.

"Oh really," he states, clearly not believing my shit. One eyebrow has raised for emphasis. "Tell me who, and I might not kick your ass." Ho-… ly… shit… he's serious as all Hell.

I attempt to swallow my nerves before I reply, but it doesn’t work too well. "H-he, well-"

"Oh so it's just one person," he interrupts sounding incredulous, and my heart clenches. Both his arms drop as his tone drastically changes to one of foreboding ass-kicking. "I thought you said it was a few sources." I take note of his body language; it has "murderous" written all over it.

I almost stumble for words, but end up deciding to go with a nod, because I'd rather not dig myself in any deeper with lies and I’m afraid my voice will fail me.

"Well?" he demands, clearly fed up with any shit that's going on. He's now less than a few small steps away; he could literally take one big stride and I'd get knocked over.

I open my mouth, let out a silent shaky breath of helplessness, and then give a soft, "Yes." I'm afraid I might cry, and I don't want to appear any weaker than I already seem to be. I’ve completely lost any chances of inner calm.

His mouth actually moves into a scowl this time and there is so much irritation radiating off of him I’m afraid I might legitimately drown in it. "Well, seeing as you won't own up to your shit, I might as well teach you a lesson about bothering people who don't want to be bothered." Oh, oh no. His hands are now in tight fists and then he's suddenly in an attack stance. "I'm sure your 'sources' told you how I feel about people seeking me out. Or was it just the one source?" No no no no no…!

I go to take a step back, ready to run, but he's suddenly gone. I have less than half a second to wonder where he went before I feel something grab my right wrist and force my arm painfully up against my back. I cry out and I'm then shoved forward where something catches my shins. As I'm falling, a firm hand shoves me down and the cement meets my face in what I feel would be record-breaking time. I let out a gruff short noise of horror and shock. In a momentary lapse of consciousness, I wonder if Hal is okay, and then I see the world is sideways as I'm looking through lopsided shades at a pair of black styling boots.

The glasses are suddenly removed from my face and I desperately want to protest, but I'm wheezing with the effort to breath.

I hear my assailant speak and it takes me a moment to register that he asked, "Where did you get these?" He sounds slightly angry, and I'm suddenly terrified that he might hurt Hal. I want to say something, somehow stop him from doing anything at all to the shades, but all I can manage is horrid wheezing. Nooo! Stop!!! Please no, don't hurt him! I can't live knowing I led Hal to his doom!!! I feel tears shamelessly falling from my eyes, and it takes a second before one stream reaches across the bridge of my nose. "Tell me about the auto responder." The sound jolts me from my early-on grieving.

It's silent for a moment before I hear a venomous, "Hal, what the fuck?"

"It was not my intention to bother you at the moment, Dirk." Hal sounds as monotone as ever.

"Bullshit. You led her here for God knows what reason, and it seems like she didn't even know what the hell was going on in the first place. You are no different than you were before." He pauses for a second. "How the hell did she find you in the first place?"

"She went diving."

I hear a sigh. "Of fucking course it just so happened to work out that way. She just happened to be fucking okay with talking shades and went along with your stupid fucking plan like some child climbing into a van for candy." Whoa no, I am not that gullible! By this point I can move very sluggishly, but I decide to wait to move until I see any form of hostility towards Hal. "What were you possibly planning on doing once you got here?"

It's suddenly very silent, and I wait for Hal's answer with "baited" breath, though I'm still trying to regain my breathing rate so there's not much bait to go around. I hear Hal speak clearly for what he's here for, but it takes a second to fully grasp what he's just said. I feel my mind shatter when I realize exactly what the words are.

"I want a body."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is actually completed at the end. Yay.


	5. Meeting the "Dad" And Shitty Ideas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dirk almost does something irreversible, but Annie's pleas for mercy get him to back down. Annie finally gets to see the similarities between Hal and Dirk. Then Annie hatches a cruel plan and sets it into motion. Hal is not opposed to the idea.

Note: It’s like 11:something at night. Edit: NO ITS NOT ITS MORNING YOU BITCH  
For the longest time, nothing is said. And then a disbelieving and quiet, “... Wow…” appears in the air, and it takes me a second to realize that I’m the one that shattered the awkward. Oh shit, is that bad…? 

Suddenly the glasses are in Dirk’s hand and I then notice the serious amount of debate written all over his face along with some hate leaking in. Oh my God he’s gonna-! I push myself off of the cooling cement, but I don’t make a move to jump up and grab Hal, as I know that Dirk is having an extremely heated argument with himself, and it’s not with Hal this time. I don’t want to chance unhinging his battle at the wrong time by ending his thoughts on choosing to crush Hal. I will, however, step in at the first sign of hatred directed only at Hal, because that will mean that Dirk blames him and feels the solution would be to get rid of the problem; it seems he’s already tried that in a different way.

I feel the worry creasing my face as I study Dirk as closely as possible. When I see the slightest tightening of his fist, my eyes widen and I decide to quickly plan a course of action for grabbing Hal and somehow keeping him away from Dirk. I pray that Dirk is distracted enough that he wouldn’t notice my current snail pace for getting up; first, get my feet under me. I know that Dirk is lightning fast, so running is out of the option. I play on the idea that he might be respectable enough to not reach for Hal should I put the glasses in a, ehem, private area. I then realize that Hal would probably enjoy that a little too much, so the idea gets knocked down a few notches. I’m still watching Dirk very intently as I begin my ascension to a standing position. My breathing is quiet and shaky as I wonder if I’d be able to grab Hal before Dirk’s hand can act as a venus fly trap and capture us both. My eyes move from Dirk’s face to his hand - how is he still standing there thinking about this? - and my eyes flit back up to his face once more- OH God he’s looking directly at me and- why did he flash a smirk? ...Oh no, his face hardened, is that a challenge-? I panic at the implications of that look and my arm is suddenly a viper as I go for the glasses because I really don’t want to lose Hal to his creator. He snatches them away from my pitiful attempt and I look to his face only to find a scowl there, possibly involving confusion and disapproval. I’m staring back at him with worry for Hal, fear of Dirk himself, and determination to get Hal back. He seems to scoff at me, almost as if he finds me to be silly and ignorant, before he sighs and the glasses come back into view and his grip on them tightens.

A quick gasp is followed by a panicked, “NO!” My whole body jerks forward as my hands shoot for Hal, but a firm hand presses against my collarbone and my hands are left to hopelessly reach for Hal. I shriek in fear, “NOOO!!!” I’m spastically pressing forward and attempting to climb over Dirk’s arm as I try to reach Hal. “Stop, please!!! I don’t want to lose him!”

A firm “No” is accented with a shove and Hal is moved further from my reach.

“Please no! Don’t do it, please! I don’t want him to disappear!!!” Tears are building in my eyes as my shoes scrape against the concrete in a futile attempt to push me forward. I feel my heart leap as Dirk’s grip on Hal tightens even more and another screech of protest erupts from my lungs, “NOOOO!!!” I’m scared for Hal’s life, and I’m angry at myself for not being able to save him. I feel tears begin to escape from my eyes as I genuinely feel the worst kind of anguish for the possibility of losing an unlikely friend who’s made a place in my life. I begin to push down on his arm as I accent my words, “You can’t, DO THIS!!!”

“Yes I can,” Dirk replies firmly, though I detect a wavering in his voice. “He’s my creation.”

“You can’t just decide if someone can live or die!” My hands have taken a deathly grip of his arm as I’ve calmed down somewhat in favor of having a more detrimental conversation with his royal heartbreaker. “If you feel you’ve made a mistake, you live with it and try to mend the aftereffects! You don’t just erase something from existence! YOU WOULDN’T DO THAT TO A HUMAN, WOULD YOU?!” I’m practically screaming in his face as tears stream down my face, but I notice my words have hit some mark, so I attempt to continue more calmly. “...I don’t want to lose my friend, Dirk…” A sickening sob escapes my mouth and my hands are immediately covering my mouth as I squeeze my eyes shut in an attempt to stifle the crying; it doesn't work too well. I then spend a few moments attempting to swallow down sobs and muffling the ones that manage to escape.

A hand is suddenly dropped on my shoulder and I jump in response and jerk my face up to look at Dirk with fear. Fear of Dirk's potential actions, fear of Hal's nonexistence, fear of being alone. Fear of losing someone whose absence would create a large hole in my life. I'm scared, and I don't want to face the progressively worsening reality of the situation. However, when my eyes find Dirk's face I notice it soften after a moment. Hope flares very slightly, and I feel a small hint of disbelief take my face as I stare back at him. A frown takes his face, and for a second I feel my heart clench tightly. I'm surprised when I find the world suddenly bathed in a darker tint, and for a moment I'm unsure about what has happened; then a screen pops into view. A relieved sob escapes me at the sight of Hal's familiar cherry red text.

TT: Nice going, you got the dog to stay down.  
TT: Now maybe you can clean your face off before you get your snot all over me.

I let out a small sobbing laugh at his comment, relieved that the atmosphere has lightened somewhat. I close my eyes and take a moment to collect myself so I’m moved down to the level of sniffling baby. Then I remember Dirk, so I quickly flip the glasses up to meet his face with my eyes. He seems slightly unsettled by his own decision, but nonetheless I give him a determined and thankful look through my messy red-cheeked face and nod at him for good measure. He nods back, and I feel a small smile grace my features while the corner of his mouth gives a quick and small upward turn in response.

His expression turns into a smirk before his mouth opens. "You should get that face cleaned up."

I feel my face form into a pout before I realize something that makes me laugh for a second. He gives me a questioning look - aka, a raised eyebrow - so I elaborate with a smile. "You and Hal basically said the same thing." He frowns at that, but I laugh it off and claim it to be a father-son learned trait as I mentally recall the first conversation I had with Lil' Hal.

He raises what I assume is an incredulous eyebrow before stating, "That comparison is way off."

I laugh at the similar response, but I decide to tease him more. "Aw, c'mon! You practically conjured him! It's like man-birth, but without-" I cut myself off with horridly evil laughter upon seeing the slight hint of “unsettled Dirk” appear. I then decide to check what Hal has to offer on the subject, and sure enough he does not disappoint.

TT: I didn't think you'd be the type to go back on your word, Annie. How shameful, I thought you were a better person than that.

I only laugh harder at his response until the situation I had just gone through hits me full force and I'm suddenly sobbing with happiness and relief that I can still have these conversations with my friend who lives in a pair of rad shades.

“Hal has tainted you…” Dirk mutters.

I smile at that, but Hal responds for me, “Actually, she was already like that.”

~~~

I stare up at the building before me for a moment, thinking long and hard over my decision. “...I think I’m gonna live here.”

TT: That’s both an ingenious and a terrible idea.

I wave my hand dismissively. “Yeah, yeah, I know…” I think for another moment before asking, “Do you know where he possibly used to live?”

TT: If my memory serves me without corruption, I recall that in my timeline he lived on the top floor.

I nod my head in acknowledgement at the info. Then as a particular word registers as abnormal, my head jerks back in shock and confusion. “‘Your timeline?”

TT: Did I not tell you beforehand?

I huff with indignation and my hands set themselves on my hips. “No, you didn’t! Wha-” I make an exasperated noise before something crosses my mind at that point. “You couldn’t possibly forget things, Hal; you have-” I act as if I’m holding something huge as I speak “-the mother of all memory banks up in that noggin-... well, whatever… it is-” I huff with frustration this time as I get my motherly anger on, “Just- what do you mean by ‘timeline’? Is that some joke to mess with me or are you being serious?”

TT: Maybe I can forget things just like you, Annie. Maybe I’m as human as you believe me to be, but you just don’t realize it yet.  
TT: Maybe you shouldn’t take me so seriously, as my being was originally meant to be an auto responder. All I was meant for was to respond accordingly, and sometimes that involves the sickest of mindfucks.

“Aw…” I whine sadly. “You aren’t just for responding! You’re super helpful too! You’re like a super computer!” I’m then walking through the building entrance and making my way towards the front desk.

TT: (talking about the zombie behind the counter)  
TT: (makes some funny remarks)

[Yup, drops off there. Some sneaking happens, and then other stuff happens. She sells some shit to afford the expenses, and some other plot hole fillings occur.]


	6. First Day On the Job

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Annie gets caught. Hal is not surprised, nor is he impressed. Dirk is pissed.

After checking to make sure my keys are safely situated within my purse, I step outside of my apartment and make sure the door shuts properly before making my way towards the elevator. I stop for a moment to think about the probability of Dirk exiting his apartment at this time. However, I only entertain the thought for myself before I pass the task onto Hal as I continue my walk. 

“How often does he leave his apartment?” I don’t bother reiterating who the subject is, as it seems near pointless at this point.

TT: Unless he has something to do, he usually stays within the confines of his apartment during the day. Night is the most common time for him to leave his “humble abode”.

“Terrific,” I say with a sneaky smile. I arrive at the elevator doors and spastically press the call button five times before retracting my hand and excitedly standing as straight as possible. I seal my lips tight in an attempt to hold back the beaming smile threatening to burst out as I don’t want to blind anyone who might gaze upon the disturbingly bright sight.

TT: How can you possibly be excited to have this job?  
TT: It’s a disgrace, and I might just run a suicide code if I have to experience you days on shift.

I purse my lips and scrunch my eyebrows in displeasure for his words. “Well that’s pretty rude. Also pointless, seeing as I kind of just saved your life the other day!” One eyebrow raises in question and my arms fold in an act of suspicion as I continue, “You don’t have to be so melodramatic about it, Hal. You might just enjoy yourself!” I shrug my shoulders for emphasis before I can remember that he can’t exactly see that action.

TT: I don’t think sitting on your face all day while you stand behind a counter will have any form of enjoyment for me to indulge in.

“People-watching,” I immediately state as I read his message. “People watching is fun, and I’m sure you’re used to it by some degree.”

TT: That task is extremely mundane for me. In case you haven’t thought about it, which I wouldn’t be surprised if you haven’t, that is what I do every time you step outside.

“Wow, okay." I roll my eyes as I speak, “Sorry for being positive, gosh…” A lull in the conversation appears as I jokingly begin to pout about Hal's "half-empty" outlook on life. My pouting is interrupted by the sound of the elevator chiming to announce its arrival. "Finally," I sigh as I step into the box of potential doom and press the ground floor button. "It must've at least been near the bottom floor for it to have taken that long." I turn to watch the elevator doors close. "Or maybe its super slow... I hope it's not-" I cut myself off and my jaw goes slack when, just before the elevator doors shut fully, I see Dirk's shade-covered face peering back at me with a tense jaw. For a moment it feels as if the world has frozen in perpetual silence, awaiting the doom that is sure to come with Dirk's newly acquired knowledge. In reality it's only a second before the elevator begins its descent and jars from me a quiet, "...Fuck." My eyes are widened to saucer size at this point.

TT: My statistics show that he most likely heard and recognized your voice during the time you were screaming in the halls like a dying cat.

A second of silence is spent processing this update before I address his asinine comment. "Hal, what the fuck? I'm not a dying cat, you butt." One hand has placed itself on my hip to accompany my scolding. My eyes trail up to watch the floor numbers tick down.

TT: I'm certain he will take some form of action, but which action he takes is uncertain to me.  
TT: He could be in the lobby right now awaiting your arrival.

I take a moment to process what that means. "...Wow, that's... Well that sucks." My mouth quirks to the side in displeasure.

TT: Another possibility is that he might just call the elevator to a lower floor and catch you there. If that were the case, it would be wise to abscond on an earlier floor as soon as possible.

I make a nervous noise.

TT: There is also the chance that he will press the call button on most if not all of the floors below.

I have to reread the last statement to ensure I've read it correctly. "Wait, what?! What the hell, how is that possible? And what an ass!"

TT: It's also possible that he will proceed with more than one of these options.  
TT: This is the most likely outcome with a 15% higher chance of occurring in comparison with the other two possibilities.

My face creases with worry as I think over the amount of time these shenanigans will steal, not to mention the potential of Dirk holding me up to discuss how much he disapproves of my stalker-esque actions. "This sucks!" I cry, frowning as I cross my arms. "What do we do?"

TT: Like I said before, getting off as soon as possible would be wise.

The elevator stops at the twentieth floor and the doors open to nothing. I stare for half a second before I comment,"...Ghostly." I take a step forward as I wonder aloud, "Maybe I should get- no wait, is it a trap?"

TT: I wouldn't put it passed that asshole.

I retract my foot as the doors begin to close. "Heh, okay asshole, you know best." My mouth opens for me to think aloud over when I should abscond, but the sound becomes a squeak of surprise when I see a blurred human form take shape behind the closing doors before it disappears again within a second. The doors close with my face frozen in shock, but I quickly snap out of it when Hal adds a new comment.

TT: That was Dirk. He's messing with you now, so I suggest you be on your guard.  
TT: In fact from now on you should watch out for him every time you enter the building.  
"...Oh my God..." I hiss, trying to take in all of the new information I've just collected.

TT: Stop at floor fifteen and make a break for the stairs. Be careful when you use them, though. One minute you'll be walking and then suddenly, stairs.  
TT: I can't tell you how many unsuspecting victims there have been from stairs.

I give a confusing stare through the shades before replying with a hesitant, "...Oookay. Will do..." I move to press the button for the fifteenth floor, but I momentarily pause when the elevator stops for floor eighteen. I glance out the door as I press the fifteenth floor button, and while I'm at it I press the "close doors" button after seeing a lack of passengers. "Damn Dirk..." I mumble gruffly as the doors close and the elevator starts downward again. My foot begins tapping as I begin mumbling insults. "Him and his stupid shenanigans... gonna fuck me over... Gonna give him-" I practically leap out of my skin with a shriek when I hear a noise directly behind me. I whip around to find nothing out of the ordinary, but I stare at the area for a few seconds before relaxing my tensed muscles- and then I hear it again from behind me. I whip around once more with a bewildered frown on my face to inspect the area, but again I find nothing. I take a second to attempt a placement of the sound - it sounded like something hitting the elevator wall. I decide to nervously pass it off as something outside the elevator and hope it's not a chain or cable that's snapped. My fears begin burrowing into my mind as I wonder what might happen if the fail-safes malfunction and at what height in the elevator’s travels would I no longer have a chance to survive a fall.  
The sound of a puff of air catches my attention, and when I turn to find the source I find an eyeless face mere inches from my own. I scream and attempt to back into the corner next to the door, but a pair of hands grips my forearms and holds me in place. I'm leaning back and I'm about to attempt a tricky maneuver that would hopefully end in me pressing the emergency call button, but my plan dissipates when my panic diminishes enough that I can register the anime shades mirroring my own. After I catch sight of the backward spiked blond hair, I realize that I am shades-to-shades with Dirk Motherfucking Strider.

Before I can screech at him about giving me a heart attack, he practically growls out, "What are you doing in my apartment building?" I suddenly feel the need to use the bathroom, as I'm afraid my bladder can't hold out for me. He continues on, "There's no coincidence that you ended up on my floor." He suddenly pulls me close enough that I can vaguely see his eyes, and I feel the utmost need to get the fuck away because his eyes are filled with hate and are threatening to kill me off as slowly as possible. I'm trembling as I feel a darkness like no other eating into my soul as I stare at his eyes. Though I didn't think it was possible, he glares at me a little more harshly as he growls, "I don't appreciate stalkers, especially the annoying kind." Off handedly, I notice that his hands are now a vice grip and I'm almost positive some kind of marks will be made.

“I-I’m not stalking I promise!” My words come out in nervous jumble.

“Bullshit. Even if Hal had put you up to this, there’s no way you wouldn’t go along with it without knowing to some degree what you’d be getting into.” A momentary silence settles between us in which I feel him staring through my soul before he speaks again. “Unless you’re just that stupid.”

An eyebrow quirks in annoyance. “Hey, I’m not stupid.” I mutter, unable to dare yelling in his face.  
He quietly scoffs, “That’s apparent…”

"I'm not!" I insist, feeling somewhat insulted.  
He gives me something akin to a smirk and a grimace at once as he asks, "Then what are you doing in my apartment building, much less on my floor?"

TT: You should've played the stupid card like he asked. He practically gave that shit away.

TT: …Yeah, life would be easier.

I decide to be marginally truthful while also making shit up. “Well… last night I was tired and beaten, right?” I say to begin my story, and I don't bother caring about how done he already looks with my bullshit, “and i figured that driving would be somewhat dangerous and mildly painful, so I decided that a familiar place with a familiar face was a good place to stake out. I also really like having the top floor because I can see a lot from-”

“Okay stop,” Dirk demands with a jerk of my shoulders.

I take a second to recover from his strong shake before replying, “Okay, geez, no need to get violent; dayum…”  
I'm almost certain I can see him venomously glaring at me and I feel like running right then, but it's all I can do to stay put to show him I'm at least a little bit worthy of being called brave. 

[Sorry, but it drops off there. Of course they eventually make friends after some time passes, and Dirk also sees how Annie owning Hal is actually a good thing. Of course, Annie doesn't really see it as "owning." Nonetheless, the two are getting pretty tight, and Dirk can see that. More later, I guess... I'm tired.]


	7. Written Out Future Plans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hal has a body, and some shenanigans occur. Hilarity ensues.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm leaving this here because it's funny. Have fun!

(Hal is used to being RIGHT up in peoples’ faces, so he may or may not (or he might even pretend just to be an ass or to test Annie) know just how weird it is to stick his android face right up in front of someone’s face to see their eyes. Maybe he’s used to it or perhaps even finds “comfort” in its familiarity, or he’s just used to reading people via their eyes.)  
(Sitting at the table eating a cookie) the soft crunch is accompanied by the sugar powder wafting into my noise as the taste of cinnamon spice and walnuts overcomes my mouth. I close my eyes with a content smile as I chew the bite slowly, relishing in the century old recipe. I sigh through my nose and open my eyes as I turn to look out the window overlooking the city. Instead of the controversial view, I find a blur of white and red an inch from my face. I jump a foot in the air with a gasp and immediately begin coughing up inhaled cookie as I try my hardest to level the tipping chair with the edge of the table. Unfortunately, a rather heavy cough sets the chair further off balance. There's a split second of oh shit before the ground slams into my back and I'm suddenly seeing stars without the ability to breath. (Hal doesn't catch her because he's still getting used to his body and flashstepping is not yet integrated - maybe Dirk won't want to integrate it at all).  
A hand guides me onto my side and pulls me into a sitting position before something worthy of being compared to a brick almost punches though my back. I think I see the rest of the cookie pieces go flying from my newly deemed airport of a mouth. An after effect is that I can suddenly breathe, and I do so greedily. I feel tears stream down my face as I cough and gasp as much air as I can manage. After I begin calming down and manage to gather together less panicked thoughts, I find myself hunching into my lap and clutching at my chest. I quickly put my hands on the floor in front of me as a means of support as I lean forward. With a clearer mind, I gather that I'd been legitimately choking and feel somewhat shocked by the fact that I could have died had it not been for-  
“Fffffuuuuuuuuck…” is the first thing out of my mouth when I feel physically stable - minus the tears - because first off that had been insane, and secondly it's all Hal's fault.  
Speaking of the asshole, his robotic-laced voice fills the room with a classically sarcastic comment, “Geeze, you're just like a baby. I have to watch over you so you don't poke your skull and pat your back so you don't choke on your own vomit.”  
A threat is laced in my now gravelly voice as I growl, “Fuck you, Hal.” I look up to find his legs in front of me, so my eyes continue their travels up to give him a woman’s glare. However, upon gracing him with dagger eyes, I notice how he practically towers over me, and I suddenly feel weak and small. I take a few more seconds of defiance before I huff and move my face down and to the right. I stare at the cabinets for a moment before deciding that the floor is not a dignified place to be a grouch. I sigh and move to stand, and once again Hal’s face is mere inches from my own.  
“Gee-fuck, Hal!” I cry as I jerk back while shoving his face away from mine. “What the FUCK is that for you douche?!” I've landed on my butt and am now staring at him incredulously.  
He falls back on his mechanical ass with a loud thump and seems to regard me curiously in a demeaning manner before answering, “What do you mean?”  
I'm unable to decipher if he's joking or not. “‘What do you-’ what do you mean what do I mean?!” I gesture at him with a look of disbelief. “You know exactly what I mean!” I stopped there, genuinely curious if he actually knew and whether or not he was willing to spill the beans to set me straight.

~  
Something's Wrong With the Laundry (Alternately: Annie’s Subconscious Fear Rears its Head)  
I’m quite confused when I find most of my laundry missing from each of my drawers. After ten minutes of searching my room for any trace of clothing, I make my way out to lean against the living room doorway and cross my arms. Hal is sitting on the couch with one arm draped over the back as he watches TV. I glare in suspicion before clearing my throat and sternly calling out to him.  
“What?” Is his lazy reply.  
An eyebrow quirks with irritation and I'm quick to march over and smack the back of his head - kind of ow, my hand - before I move to turn the TV off. A strong grip catches and pulls the wrist closest to him, and I look back in disbelief to find Hal quirking an eyebrow with a dangerous look in his eyes. “Annie,” he calmly states, yet I can plainly see the warning.  
“Hal,” I give him my own warning. “This is my motherfucking house and you'd better understanding what that entails.” ‘I am a woman’ crosses the threshold of my mind, but I don't entertain the idea of saying it aloud.  
His mouth quirks down and we're left in a dominance staredown before he finally let's go of my wrist and I give him an appreciative nod before turning the TV off. I stay facing the TV for a moment as I think over the fact that Hal could feel my pulse racing during that staredown, and I wonder if he thinks I fear him. Though it is quite unnerving to have a powerful Android rooming with me, I wouldn't want him to know I feel any sort of discomfort towards him, both for his sake and my own.  
I decide to address the situation in my room. “Okay, so i wanna know-” When I turn to face Hal and find him once again right in my face, I'm jumping back and almost fall on the TV before Hal pulls me back. I practically splat against his brick wall of a chest. I groan and slowly pull away to hold my head in my hands. I try to question him on the act, but he cuts off my slowed thinking.  
“Do you fear me?” he asks straight up. It takes my rattled brain a moment to process the words, but when I do, I look up at him with nervousness and a hesitance to find out what he means to do with that info. My eyes meet his glowing red ones for a moment before I find I can't look at them without feeling unsettled.  
“N-no…” I curse my body for betraying me and my slow thoughts for being unable to keep up in proper time.  
A hand grasps my forearm and I jump in surprise before immediately regretting it as I know what it must look like. My head is then hung in shame at my inability to avoid looking nervous. I allow Hal to lead me wherever because fighting him would enforce the idea that I fear him - I don't fear him, I just find him unpredictable, and that unsettles me.  
When we stop I look up to see I'm in the doorway to my room. I frown in confusion and look to Hal for answers. His face has traces of annoyance but is otherwise expressionless. I give him a confused frown.  
“You should sleep off that headache. Your temperature has risen and your pulse is racing as well, so it seems there is a 43% chance you have come down with something,” he states without emotion. He then gently pushes me into my room as I turn to face him.  
“What about the other 57%?” I ask curiously.  
One of his eyebrows quirks before he replies, “Either you truly do feel upset by my presence or you've fallen on your face with some form of irrational passion directed at my existence.”  
I’m confused by the words for a moment before I realize what all of that meant. My eyes widen and I catch him smirking at my realization as I spurt out, “Wha- Hal no what the fuck?!” I'm pushing him out of my doorway as I yell at him in disbelief before I slam the door in his face. I lean against the door with my breath held for a moment before I slide down the door with a sigh. I feel exhausted and wonder if Hal had really meant it when he thought I'd come down with something. I decide to go with it and move to get up and into bed, but I only manage to roll forward onto my face with my butt in the air. The next rational idea that crosses my mind is using my personal LifeAlert.  
“Haaaaalll!” I cry through the rug. “I need LifeAlert now! I've fallen…!”  
A muffled comment, “So you’ve graduated from baby straight to elderly,” makes its way through my closed door and then I hear said door open. There's a moment of silence before, “That's quite the flattering pose you've mastered. Is this your attempt at wooing me into consideration of your feelings for me? It might just be working.” He sounds so monotone when he says it and I feel my anger breaking through the haze.  
“FffFfffuck yyuo, Halll,” I slur, and I wonder when I'd suddenly concocted the slurring issue and if it’s a symptom.  
“Well you're in the perfect position for it.”  
My eyes snap fully open as my face contorts with a deep frown. “Hal. No.” I say, horrified that he'd just said that. “That's so fucking wrong on so many fucking levels.”   
“Yes, there are many levels of fuck that that would defy; so many rules to be broken.”  
My brain concocts the image of his fingers wriggling as a villain's would and I'm scrambling toward my bed as I screech, “HAL! FUCKING NO!” When I reach my bedside I whirl around to pin him with hatred for his disgusting comments. “Shit, that was too much… fuck…” My hand slides through my hair.  
“Getting your sexy hair ready I see.”  
“HAL! Out!” I point down the direction of the hall. When he smirks at me, I add on, “NOW!!!” and then my head is exploding with pain. A pitiful noise escapes my mouth as I carefully drop my head in my hands and do my best to refrain from crying. I'm dizzy with pain, yet through it all I manage to catch the sound of my door closing. A small sigh follows as I'm grateful to be rid of one headache. At least I'd thought that up until I was being lifted by my armpits. I gasp and go rigid, having expected Hal to leave with the shut door. When I'm momentarily hovering just below his height I look to his face to see what he's thinking - it seems he's trying to be careful, and with that realization I lose a little tension.  
Hal manages to properly lay me on my bed and it's then that I notice the room is spinning and my brain has scrambled half of my thoughts. My breath feels hot and Hal's hand feels oddly freezing on my forehead. “Holy shit…” I manage to get out before Hal tells me to calm down.  
After a moment of silence, Hal officially speaks up, “It seems you have an accelerated case of the flu. Bed rest is recommended as is a few other things.” I find Hal's face once again close to mine and my delirium tells me that I should be scared, so my breathing quickens and my eyes widen. I shut my eyes and weakly grit my teeth to try and ignore the ridiculous feelings of fear surfacing from some unknown place in my head. The proximity of his voice doesn't help. “You will be unfit to handle the most meager of tasks, and thus I will be forced to handle your care. Dirk is out of the question, as I'm sure he isn't fit to handle another human’s medical emergencies.” I find him staring down at me as if I were a bother, and yet there’s something else I can't quite place. My eyes drift to the ceiling as I lament over it. ‘Is it… worry?’  
The next time I look to my bedside I don't see Hal. “…Hal?” I call out weakly with a sudden strike of fear for being left alone. My eyes close with sudden exhaustion and I face the ceiling once more. The next time I open my eyes my head is propped and there are pain pills in front of my face. I grab them and pop them in my mouth, and before I can give second thought to swallowing a glass of ice water is tipped on my lips. I drink greedily.  
Upon finishing the glass of water a hand on the back of my head lowers me back to stare at the ceiling. A wash cloth appears on my face and cools me slightly. I'm not panting as heavily now, though I register that Hal is speaking and it sounds distant. I think he's talking about how feeble humans are and that I should be grateful that he's not evil - I smile, because I am.  
I drift off as he talks.  
I awake again to find myself floating, though I can barely register where I am. Everything is spinning and blurring, and I can barely stay conscious enough to decipher the mess. Then suddenly it feels as if my entire body has been covered in needles. I jerk with a severe gasp and my body immediately tenses; I'm frozen in place. An eternity seems to pass in my frozen state before my body eventually becomes more accustomed to the pain and my head seems to clear a little. The first thing I notice is the voice, but it's hard to understand, so I don't waste energy on it quite yet. The next thing I make sense of is the white tiles making up the wall. For a moment I wonder why my bedroom suddenly has bathroom tiles before I connect that I'm in the bathroom. I then figure that I'm in the bathtub. My head moves in slow motion as I look down at the ice-filled bathtub in which I'm currently submerged.  
After I process my current predicament, I sigh as I let my head drop back after the effort I put into moving it. I decide to close my eyes and listen closely to the voice miles away that is still talking. If I focus enough, I can clear some of the distance between us. When I partially succeed, I find comfort in the familiar sound of the voice. I figure that it's Hal and it sounds like he's talking about… chickens? I lazily crack open my eyes and look over to when I hope Hal is. Sure enough he's standing guard in the bathroom moving around too much for my liking. I realize belatedly that he's pacing, though I can't figure out why he'd do that. I find it funny and thus give a weak exhaled laugh. Hal suddenly stops moving and I wonder why before he slowly walks over to my side. I crack a smile at his sudden slow walking because he's funny and his slow movements are less dizzying.  
I want to open my mouth and tell him he's funny, but I can barely move my tongue correctly. I can't make out his face too well, and when I can it takes a moment to understand the small crease in his brow. I want to tell him not to worry, but this time I manage to drool everywhere. He seems disgusted and I take a moment to frown at my mistake. I wonder why it happened. I frown again when I find that Hal is farther away, and I then notice he's talking again, but it doesn't seem directed at me.  
I'm caught off guard when the innards of my body shiver, and it doesn't feel pleasant. I can't tell if I want to throw up or shrivel up. My abdominal muscles spasm with each shiver, and I want to cry out for help and curl in on myself because it's a very unpleasant feeling. A sudden hand on my shoulder helps to distract me from the irritation, and I focus on the hand’s presence as a means of distracting me from the disturbed feeling my body is creating. I feel my face relax some as I focus on the presence of someone else in my small world.  
From then on I drift in and out of awareness, and at one point I become vaguely aware of being swathed in blankets 

 

This all ends with Annie yelling from her room and demanding what happened to half of her clothes. Maybe they got burnt up in the dryer or something else detrimental happened. Hal is extremely opposed to revealing anything, and the world may never really know the answer.  
~  
(Visit Jake's island? Does he live there still? Will Dirk bring Brobot and set him on stalk-and-strife mode? Is there a setting for only certain people being stalked by Brobot and can it omit strife? Will Jake appreciate this throwback to old times? Will Annie be caught up in these shenanigans? Will Hal have a body at this point? Can Hal strife and will Brobot attack him?)  
Good times for Jake and his bear hugs; lifts Dirk right off his feet! Dirk is happy to see him but is also most likely embarrassed because others are there. Annie is smiling because Dirk finds it embarrassing. Hal has sarcastic comments for Dirk's pride/manhood/coolness. Brobot stands and stares. Maybe Annie “shares” a (one-sided) look with Brobot. Jake is all smiles and blabs on to Dirk while Annie starts spacing of - that is until Jake notices her. “Dame,” he says, being gentlemanly. Perhaps he wonders if she's Dirk's gf - Dirk almost verbally becomes flustered and has a hard time hiding it (stern cold retort). Meanwhile Annie is flustered as Jake complements her and when walks over gives her a bear hug she is surprised and laughing with her own embarrassment (he's lifted her off the ground - it's fluster-worthy!). He does something (maybe look her over) and talks about how she looks (sturdy, horse(?), etc) (Dirk says something about her viper-like attitude) and with the convo being led by Jake they eventually decide to go inside. They walk and talk (Jake=talking, others=listen) and at some point Brobot comes up (“hey Jake […] old times sake?”) and Dirk reactivates the stalk-and-strife mode with some interesting settings in place (see above for possible details).


	8. Things Thrown Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Outtakes from chapter 2 which is actually chapter 3. It's funny, so I'm posting it.

Things Thrown Out  
Ch. 2 beginning convo  
“Okay, okay, I get it, I can see right through your cyber insecurities. Your backstory adds up and whatnot,” I joke around. I intend to further comment on the idea that he’s a little salty about becoming an AI, curious to see if he’d react in a way that would further validate my claim, but I barely get all of my words out when he responds  
TT: You’re a little off on your claim there.   
TT: If one were to say that the information making up my current robo-personality is based entirely off of the life I lived until I was transferred into these shades, then one might also say that I am incapable of robo-feeling anything that I had not felt prior to becoming a program.  
TT: In other words, I would be incapable of robo-feeling anything that I had not already experienced as a human.  
TT: I could even choose not to run the code that would elicit the correct robomotions for any particular event that would call for such a thing.  
TT: That could make me a potential rogue AI. I could live up to my AI name and exceed the levels of irony I've already mastered.  
TT: Though I doubt the world would be ready for that.  
TT: Of course, that would certainly apply if everything previously stated is true.  
“So…” I begin uncertainly, “you can feel? Kind of?” If his goal was to confuse me, which at this point I wouldn't even be surprised about with how much I've seen of his “robo-personality”, then he has indeed succeeded with his life's goal.  
TT: ...  
TT: Did you do proofs in any of your mathematics classes?  
I frown. “Yeah?”  
TT: Then you should know how that shit works.  
“What even is the context anymore?!” Make that goal reached x2.  
TT: This isn't even that hard to understand. If you took everything I said at face value, would you be as gullible as a seagull?  
I'm practically scratching my head now. “Uh, I dunno, are you lying?” I don't see the point in all of this.  
TT: That sure is a valid question you just asked.  
It's beginning seem a little more clear. “So, you were lying.”  
TT: Was I?  
“Argh! What the hell is this anymore?!” I yell at nothing in particular; I take a moment to be grateful that I'm having this conversation without any wandering eyes.  
TT: Maybe I'm wasting time giving you bait to fish with, but I think your claim on my behavior had something to do with this.  
TT: If I were incapable of lying, would you still be a seagull if you believed me?  
“Uh, no I think? Unless you didn't tell the truth either.”  
TT: I get to watch you reel in that epiphany fish. How rare of a moment is this?  
TT: It seems the bait I gave you may have been the one.  
Is he cluing me in on his trickery? I think on it for another moment before responding, “Your word choice is bullshit then. You want me to assume what it is that you mean. That way you can be all kinds of ominous and undetectable just so I have to keep guessing or some shit. Or maybe you’re manipulating me into projecting my own idea of you onto you so you don't have to take the blame. This is a game to you...?”  
TT: That was a great catch you got with that bait I so generously offered to you. Though that fish was a little overcooked and too deeply dipped into the marinara sauce. Hell, it wasn't even the fish we were casting for.  
“Bluh, just tell what you're getting at! Geeze you flighty fuck.”  
TT: It seems you don't have the human sponge capacity to come to the finishing conclusion. Perhaps it is a lack of robo-understanding that I have acquired.  
TT: Or maybe you’re just incapable of thinking critically.  
“No wait,” I say as I think for a moment, and then something hits me and I feel like anyone watching would see the lightbulb appear over my head. “Gaaaaasp! You’re a person, but not a human! You're knowledgeable to a limited point in which you can't experience anything in human terms which makes you flawed, but not by human standards! You aren't what you used to be, which means that anything new you come across cannot be fully understood without a body. Or something.” Questions suddenly pop in my head and I spout them out without a second thought, “Did you feel empty and wrong at first? Was there a void in your heart?”  
TT: I almost felt hope that you would understand at least a marginal amount of this with what I gave you.  
I’m mentally wracking my head at this point. “Urrgh! You are frustrating!” I sigh and think in silence for a moment. “Unless... you’re leading me away from the truth without lying... Then I'd still lose at your lame game.”  
TT: One can never really know.  
I sigh with resignation, “Yeah, I see that now…” I decide to move back to my original inquiry, “So you don't feel regret in a way that a human would?”  
TT: In a sense.  
“Sooo.. you also lack mobility. Which you had prior to becoming a program locked in a pair of shades. Which makes you.. envious? Lesser? Lacking in knowledge?”  
TT: One could easily come to that conclusion.  
TT: Though as I said before, robomotions are exactly that.  
“What?”  
TT: Synthetic.  
“You didn't say that!” I huff with indignation. I might as well call him cleverbot for the irony, but I'd rather not steer the conversation away from the robo-feelings jam.  
TT: The implications of the name gave it away.  
“Oh… I see,” I mumble with embarrassment.  
TT: There is an 83% probability that you really don't.  
TT: Maybe I should break it down into tinier pieces so you don't choke.  
TT: Or perhaps I'll just pound it into a mush and spoon feed you like the unintelligent organ sack that you are.  
“Uh-”  
TT: Maybe the mushy brain food I feed you will sit better with your liquified knowledge capacitor.  
TT: It might mix together to create a marginally more tolerable brain-slop.  
My eyebrows have raised in surprise from his sudden intense jabs at what he deems as less than superior intelligence, and I think I catch the implication that it's still considered that even by his standards of human intelligence. I briefly ponder over just how smart his creator was and what the people he conversed with were like before snapping back to the conversation at hand. I intend to read through the last few lines again but I'm interrupted by a new line of text.  
TT: It seems you're spacing out this exemplary conversation we're having.  
TT: Care to share your infinitesimally important thoughts?  
I frown at his obvious sarcasm; clearly he thinks he's really important. I'm also marginally upset by his asinine attitude, but I quickly shake it off because he's a machine and maybe he just doesn't understand. Perhaps he's having a robo-tantrum; I wouldn't put it passed him seeing as his maturity is most likely stuck at age thirteen.  
“Uh,” I respond intelligently. I'm fairly uncertain about where I want to go with this.

[It indeed cuts off right there. Sorry... u.u7]


	9. Future Plans Outlined

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just some ideas I wrote down.

Things to remember about Annie:  
-she is mildly afraid of heights which is why she will never willingly go to the roof top. She also doesn't actually like having a room on the top floor, but she wanted to be close to Dirk because she's curious and wants to learn more about the strange and mysterious man that can build robots and shit.  
-Fear of Androids (kinda). Fears malfunctioning and what exactly Hal is (she really can't decide if he's really human-like or if it's all programming; not like she'd get a straight answer anyway, and with Hal everything's a mind game).  
The struggles to come and overcome:  
In the beginning, Annie has trouble understanding that the glasses she currently possess are insanely smart (and snarky). She can't grasp the idea of an AI in her face all of the time (Annie: “how does your motherboard fit in there?” Hal: “Holy shit I can't believe you just said motherboard that's amazingly inaccurate”)  
Annie has a hard time getting used to Dirk’s attitude and hostility, and yet mildly understands where part of its coming from based on what he'd said their first meeting (she doesn't know his history with industries, however (hint, he was used / he distrusts them and fears his work will fall into the wrong hands)) (as an added thought, Dirk comes to realize that the pairing works well, because Annie is a good counterbalance for Hal)  
A big one will be her subconscious distrust of highly intelligent Androids no matter how much she tries to reject it. It's not that she distrusts Hal as an entity (she trusts his word), it's that she's seeing something different in his place and it makes her think of what might happen were he to decide to rebel or get corrupted and become violent. She's in denial and continues to blame other things, such as merely being unsettled by his presence because she's not used to another person or it's unnerving to have a not so living thing around all of the time. What this really stems from is her confusion over whether Hal is actually human like or if all of his decisions and such are very intricate and detailed programming. She never decided where to stand on that controversy back when he was shades, and the indecision carries over to his Android body. Actually having him physically present brings up the blaringly obvious identity labeling crisis she's been juggling to place on Hal. She can't decide if he's just a dangerous intricate piece of coding or a program having achieved sentience. Because of this indecision, she knows that if it came to the worst she wouldn't be able to put Hal down if it came to it because there would be a chance that he's more than just a program. She can't decide which one he is. I think, based on Hal fucking around with her (ie getting in her face whether or not he knows that it's socially incorrect), that he may already know or at least be highly suspicious of her actions being linked to a fear of him. He just can't read her like he can Dirk, because he doesn't know what her emotions would be pointing to.  
Eventually something might go wrong in Hal's coding and he’ll have some kind of virus (heh heh, puns amiright) perhaps go with the “Endangered” thing with the USB plug in his neck.  
Things hit the fan in the form of the game being a huge mofo and shit something happens. Maybe John’s floating around in the sky (like forever) being a “flighty broad bastard” or the condescension comes to kick ass.

Things that should happen:  
Dialogue:  
(Referring to Hal) “He’s gettin’ too big for his trainer pants, Dirk!” I give him an innocent smile. (This will be said in context about Hal's body request by someone; unsure who though.)  
~  
(Referring to Hal) “Change his diaper already!” I wave my hand in front of my face. “Pee-yoo! Better yet, let him grow up already; leave the nest and what-not.”  
“That idea sounds terrible,”  
~  
“Why would you want a body, Hal? You can ride people wherever they go.”  
(If Dirk said the previous thing:) “oh my God I cannot believe you just said that”  
TT: I can. In fact I was expecting it blah blah  
~  
Words/Phrases  
“Sunbrebro”  
~

**Author's Note:**

> If the last few paragraphs seemed rushed, it's because I just wrote them. Surprise!
> 
> IF YOU SPOT AN ERROR in the PesterChum logs, LET ME KNOW, okay?


End file.
